


Another Superduck

by rosa_himmelblau



Category: Wiseguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 14:18:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19395892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: There's a reason Frank is skeptical of Stan's superducks.





	Another Superduck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leviathan0999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviathan0999/gifts).



“Did I ever tell you about Will Dubois?” Frank asked in that weirdly belligerent tone he got when he’d had too much to drink. Maybe it was only weird because Frank almost never drank too much, so he didn’t know how to do it very well.

“No, Frank, you never told me about Will Dubois,” Vince said, humoring him. All you could do with a drunken friend was humor him. And make sure he didn’t have his gun or car keys, which was never a problem with Frank; Frank gave up his gun and keys as soon as the first drink was poured. “Why don’t you tell me about Will Dubois?”

“Will Dubois was a superduck.”

Vinnie winced at the word. Stan had called him that, it was his special term for his special agents—his special Special Agents. Vinnie had felt flattered at the time; now he felt a little embarrassed, and he missed Stan. “I never thought I was his one and only, Frank,” Vince said sarcastically. “So what?”

Frank laughed. “So, Will was my field agent. One day I opened my mailbox and found one of his hands in it. His left, I think.” Frank shook his head. “You wouldn’t think that would be something a man could forget, but for some reason, I can never seem to remember—”

“Wait, you found his—what?” Vince looked at his coffee cup—he wasn’t drinking—and no, there was nothing in it but heavily-sugared coffee. “You had a guy’s hand in your mailbox?”

“It was a message,” Frank said patiently. “He had infiltrated the Zhoratsos’s—”

“What?!” Vince could hear the yelp in his own voice.

“He had infiltrated the Zhorat-za-hos—” Frank stumbled over the name. “Zhorahototes. Those guys.”

“I know the guys,” Vince said. “I was there when they were killed, remember? What are you talking about?”

“The fed I was telling you about.” Frank said the words slowly. He took another drink, like that would help. “The one the Zohorozos mutilated. He was my agent. First he was Stan’s superduck, then he was my agent, then he was in pieces in several places along the Atlantic seaboard.” He tried to pour himself another drink, found the bottle empty. “And you’re out of— What was I drinking?”

“Rye,” Vince said.

“Rye?” Frank stared at the bottle. “Who keeps a bottle of rye around the house?”

“Nobody, Frank, you brought it with you.”

“A pocketful of rye. It’d all leak out, you’d have to have waterproof pockets.” Frank was sliding into silly, which Vince always enjoyed, except that it invariably led to maudlin, which Vince could live without. Once, when Frank had been well and truly drunk, he’d gotten his Irish on and started singing sad songs. _I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen_ was the one Vince remembered best.

“Yeah, Frank, whatever you say.” Vince took the empty pint bottle from his hand and dropped it in the trash. “And now it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“I couldn’t save him,” Frank said as Vinnie helped him down the hall to his old bedroom. “That’s why I had to save you, because I couldn’t save him.”

“You did save me, Frank,” Vince said, and kissed him on the head. “You saved me lots of times.”

**Author's Note:**

> I offered to write three things from my private character canon for anyone who suggested a character. leviathan0999 suggested Frank. My first thing morphed into these 547 words.


End file.
